Does your dog like to play with a ball? Why do dogs like to play catch? Why do dogs love tennis balls?
Can dogs really see what is on the TV? How much do you know about the way your dog sees the world?

One of my favorite hobbies is playing with a ball. I have many ways to play ball.

One is for somebody to throw it and then I go and run after it and catch it in my mouth. Then somebody yells “Bring me the ball” and I’m supposed to bring it back, but I don’t always do that. Sometimes, I do, but sometimes I don’t. Sometimes my parents will have to say, “Joey, come” and I’m supposed to come with the ball, but I don’t always do that, either. Sometimes I drop the ball, and then come to them, leaving the ball behind. Then they say, “Joey, bring me the ball” and here we go, all over again.

Sometimes I’ll bring them the ball, but I won’t drop it. Then they say, “Joey, sit” and then “Drop it” and “Drop the ball” and “Joey, Drop it” until I finally let go of it. I like this game.

Another game I like to pay is toss the ball high in the air and catch it with my mouth. I play this by myself, and I am proud of this skill. I can play this for a long time. Sometimes when we have people over our house, I will start to play this game as a way of attracting their attention and as a way of saying “Play with me”.

Now that I’m wounded, I can’t play ball either with them or by myself.

The closest I can come to playing ball is watching baseball, as you see here. I’m watching baseball with my parents so that we can spend time together. Baseball is very big where I live. I’m a little interested in the motion on the screen. In these pictures, my team is at bat.

What can we expect after our dog has surgery? How should we treat him after we bring him home following surgery?

Is there anything we need to do to our home to protect our dog?

One of my new friends was Evan. Even has a mixed Labrador Retriever puppy. He said that he hopes his Lab will grow up to be as strong and healthy as me. Wow, that’s quite a compliment!

When I was leaving, I saw a lot of people who made me happy, and I let them know that by wagging my tail. I think that people really like it when dogs are friendly to them. When I go to this hospital, people who pass by me, or who I pass by, say “Good boy” and “He’s a beautiful dog” and “He’s so friendly.” I don’t understand “boy” or “beautiful” or “friendly” but I do know that people are saying the nicest things!

Outside of the hospital, I jumped into the back seat of my parents’ car, they jumped into the front seats, and we drove off. Suddenly I started to feel really tired. My dad opened the back window so I could get some fresh air. That was nice. But still, I felt very slow, very low on energy. At some point the car stopped and Jane got out of her seat and ran around the car to the back and got into the back seat with me, and petted my head, and kept saying, very softly, “Good boy. Good boy, Joey.” She said, “We’re going home!” I felt so knocked out and barely heard the word “home” but I do know that I was with my parents, and that was just fine with me. Mom scratched me under my ears, and in between my eyes, some of my favorite places. It was so pleasant that I kept dozing off.

Maybe my being so groggy was a good thing. When we got home, Mom walked me into the house with the lead on, and then she took the lead off of me. Freedom rang and I was able to walk around the dining room and the living room and the kitchen on my own. I was able to drink my water right in the kitchen, in its old place. Life had the ring of familiarity to it.